


What the Hell

by nightmares06



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Borrower Sam, Brothers, Case Fic, G/T, Gen, Giant Sam, Growth, Pocket, Pockets, Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Shifter, Shrinking, TINY - Freeform, Tiny sam, Werewolf, brother, giant, giant tiny - Freeform, hurt comfort, pocket sam, protective older brother, shifting, size shifter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/pseuds/nightmares06
Summary: @torchmlprequested a whole new AU where Sam and Dean discover a shocking surprise-- Sam’s a sizeshifter!New Sizeshifter!Sam AUWord count:1588Warnings:Minor character death





	1. Chapter 1

Following Dean’s gesture, Sam took the right and Dean went left, both scoping out the downstairs of the house they were in.  
  
This abandoned house was marked on their map as the most likely location of a lone werewolf’s lair. Each missing person in town over the last few months had gone missing within a mile radius, no one remembered anyone coming or going from this house but reports of the lights on at odd hours had come into the police station, and, most important, the missing person’s reports all came in during the full moon.  
  
Werewolf.   
  
In. Out.  
  
Simple.  
  
Sam kept his gun close as he nudged a door open, letting in a little of the graying light that was coming in from the front door. It lit up a dismal kitchen, and it was obvious why no one had moved in. Mold, rust, a level of grime Sam couldn’t remember finding even in Bobby’s rust heap could be seen in what was normally one of the cleaner rooms of the house.  
  
Dean came around through a second door in the kitchen, and shook his head a negative when Sam arched his eyebrows.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Sam stalked carefully through the kitchen, keeping close to the walls to avoid the tell-tale creak of his weight against the old tiles. Dean scanned the kitchen once more, then went to go look through the entrance Sam had come in.  
  
While the brothers were facing away from each other, a shadow detached from the walls. Raising its arm, it took aim at the vulnerable back of Dean’s head, long claws unsheathing.  
  
Sam happened to turn his head, a faint creak of weight alerting him to something  _changed._  Spotting the wolf, his heart jumped into overdrive.   
  
“DEAN! Six o’clock!”  
  
He twisted in place, lunging at the wolf as Dean tossed himself to the side without looking, trusting Sam’s call.   
  
As such, he missed it.  
  
Halfway through Sam’s lunge, something jolted through him. His hand slammed into the werewolf before he thought he was even within  _five feet,_  and what’s more, his hand seemingly fit around the werewolf’s waist.  
  
Sam’s fingers sealed shut, but the strange surge of power wasn’t done with him.  
  
What he’d taken to be adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt crackled around him, boosting the size of his body up without heed for the house around him. What was once a regular house was suddenly half-sized, then a third, and Sam’s shoulders hit the ceiling.  
  
He doubled over, clinging to one thought, and holding right to the werewolf they were hunting. He couldn’t let it go free to hurt anyone else, and so his hand gripped the thrashing figure, snarling and trying to reach his knuckles to bite with razor-sharp fangs. Sam brought one of his fingers up under the creature’s chin, sealing that dangerous mouth with an audible  _click!_  and the creature glared at him with golden eyes of disgust.  
  
The ceiling shuddered under the force as Sam tried to keep himself doubled over. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he stretched out an arm to help support the house.  
  
_What the hell is going on?_  
  
Before Sam could panic more, or the werewolf could escape his grip (silver was the only thing that could kill them, even if he crushed the life from the werewolf, it would only slow it down a little), a second figure darted forward.  
  
Dean’s silver knife sank into the werewolf’s neck, the only portion of its body he could reach between Sam’s thickening fingers. Blood spurted from an artery and coated Sam’s finger in a glassy red.  
  
The creature fell still.  
  
Sam remained staring at the creature in his hand as its animalistic features faded away and were replaced with a very human man. His fangs were gone and the wild look in his eyes replaced with fading curiosity as the blood loss and silver took its toll.  
  
It was a clear minute after the creature drew its last breath before Sam realized Dean was talking to him. The older hunter slammed a fist into Sam’s arm where it rose into the air like a Roman column. “Sammy, listen to me! I’m talking to you!”  
  
Sam snapped out of it, his hand retreating from both the dead werewolf and Dean’s blow. A punch he knew should knock him flat on his ass when it caught him off guard had barely left an  _impact_.  
  
Catching Dean’s expression of dismay as he looked over his colossal little brother, Sam realized what he must be thinking.  
  
_Monster. Kill the monster. It’s the hunter thing to do._  
  
With this thought, the entire insanity of the case and his unexpected growth into a giant caught up to Sam, and he blacked out, vertigo rushing up at him as the ceiling vanished overhead.  
  


* * *

  
Dean blinked in shock as his  _gigantic_  little brother vanished into thin air. The decrepit house groaned with dismay, the support beams barely holding it together after being stretched under Sam’s weight.  
  
This should have been an open-shut case. Gank werewolf. Go home. Now he had a brother MIA and a house about to crumble.  
  
“Sammy!” Dean shouted, throwing caution to the wind as the house let out another worrying moan. “Sam! Where are ya, man?”  
  
He looked again at the ceiling. It had to be ten feet over his head, and he'd seen Sam’s arm  _stretched across it_  like nothing.  
  
“Sam?”   
  
On his way to look out at the porch, Dean spotted a small scrap of cloth on the ground that he didn’t remember seeing when he first scanned the room.  
  
_Sam probably just… tore his shirt or something._  
  
Yet something in Dean didn’t let him pass it up, and he leaned in closer and flashed his light onto the ground.  
  
It lit up a tiny Sam, stretched out over the ground like he’d fallen from a great height, and Dean shouted in shock, dropping his flashlight and scrambling back.  
  
It took several seconds and some focus on hokey deep-breathing exercises Dean had picked up on from Sam’s workout tapes for him to pick himself off the ground, crawling the last few feet between him and--  
  
Yep, it was definitely Sam.  
  
The house creaked again, and Dean scooped his hand underneath his tiny little brother, folding his fingers over him and shoving him in a pocket. There was no time to hesitate. He only paused to grab his flashlight and toss himself out the door to the backyard as the second floor finally gave in, caving in and destroying the kitchen, burying the werewolf under a wall of debris.  
  


* * *

  
Sam tried to sit up, groaning in pain. His back hurt. His arms hurt. His  _toes_  hurt. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the tips of his  _hair_  hurt.  
  
So, all in all, his night was shitty, everything hurt, and everything was dark.  
  
Pushing himself to his feet, Sam stumbled into the wall. He hadn’t realized it at first, but he was in a small, claustrophobic room, no larger than a closet at Bobby’s house, and it continually rocked from side to side, swaying outwards before slamming back into the wall next to him. He had the idea that most of his soreness came from that repeated motion as it happened again, carrying him haplessly along with the motion as the room moved.  
  
Sam groaned, tucking his arms around his stomach.  
  
_Think. What happened before I blacked out?_  
  
It took some coaxing, but his memory eventually yielded up the image of fighting a werewolf as a  _giant._  Holding it down so Dean could dart in and slash its throat.  
  
Was that it? Was he still a giant, and the government had found them?  
  
He knew better than anyone how little the government really understood the supernatural. If they’d found him and Dean while he was unconscious, Dean might not have been able to keep them from taking him. There was only so much he could do by fast-talking. It was impossible to explain away a  _giant._  
  
Sam cautiously check his neck and arms as he continued looking around his confinement, making sure he didn’t feel any trank gun wounds. They could have sedated him for days.  
  
“Hey!” he called out, determined to not go peacefully. They might have to put him down if he was a dangerous giant, but he was not going to a  _cage_  to be placed in some kind of government  _zoo._  No way in hell.  
  
Sam punched the wall when he swung into it next, and he could have sworn it  _paused_. “Let me out of here!”  
  
Above, a sliver of light came into the pocket, and four massive fingers and one huge thumb curled around him before he could react, dashing any of his thought of  _giant_ as he was drawn into the light and held up before two shocked green eyes the size of his head.  
  
Sam and Dean stared at each other, dumbfounded. Dean was standing on a sidewalk in a darkened park near a bench and trash can made for his size.  
  
Sam’s mouth dropped open, and suddenly the hand holding him was gone, and he landed on Dean full-sized in a tangle of limbs.  
  
“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean complained from the bottom of the pile.


	2. Chapter 2

Together, the Winchesters were able to piece together the events of that night.  
  
 _Somehow,_  Sam had grown to a giant, and stopped the werewolf in its tracks. Restrained the werewolf long enough for Dean to dart in, sinking his silver knife into its throat, taking out the threat.  
  
After that, Sam somehow lost his giant stature, diminishing to just a few inches in height. Dean had tracked him down, and pocketed him for safe-keeping.  
  
“I can’t believe you stuck me in a  _pocket,_ ” Sam muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a thumb.  
  
Dean sent him a side-eyed look, both hands firmly on the wheel of the Impala as they got the hell out of dodge. The last thing they needed was the authorities showing up to a bloody murder scene in a demolished house. As guilty as that would make them look, they’d be lucky if they could pull off an escape before getting thrown in jail.  
  
The night was dark, the sun fallen beneath the horizon long ago. Dean had only stopped at the motel long enough to toss their bags in the back, not bothering to check out. Sam had to stay and wait for him, impatient and antsy, wondering if his strange affliction was over or if it was just beginning.  
  
“Where else was I supposed to put ya?” Dean said defensively. Mirth glinted in his eyes, full of adrenaline from their successful case. “It’s not everyday I find myself a fun-sized brother!   
  
Sam’s face turned red at the idea. “Not funny, Dean!”  
  
“It’s a  _little_  funny,” Dean cracked, his grin broadening. “It’s like opening up a happy meal and finding the littlest little brother! First time I’ve been taller in years!”  
  
“I’m not a toy in a happy meal!” Sam blurted out indignantly.   
  
“Yeah, but I’m saying you  _could_  be… Just think, an entire box of food…” Dean trailed off, his mirth at finding a tiny version of Sam switching to concern. “Sammy, you okay?”  
  
Sam was hunched over in the passenger’s seat, his breathing unsteady and rushed. The red in his face had spread to his neck and ears, and his eyes scrunched shut. “Could you just  _shut up_  already!” he snapped out in a demand.  
  
Dean nearly slammed the brakes, peeling off to the side of the road to park. Curled over in half, Sam was already nearly twice the size Dean remembered. He jumped out of the car and ran to Sam’s side, pulling the door open and helping drag Sam out.  
  
Nearly collapsing, Sam doubled over. Dean tried to support him, but the weight grew too quick for him to handle.  
  
This stretch of road was deserted for miles, not a street light to be found. The only light came from the inside of the Impala and her headlights, the ground in front of the car awash in light. Sam’s growth wasn’t confined by a house this time, and his face was too high up for Dean to make out in the dark. Dean took a hesitant step away, his back hitting the side of the Impala as he felt the ground under his boots rumble.  
  
“S-Sammy?” he called out, biting his tongue. His voice shouldn’t  _shake_  when he was talking to his younger brother.  
  
A hand slammed down into the ground not five feet away from Dean. A hand that could close around him and pick him up. The Impala kept Dean from stumbling.  
  
“You alright there, gigantor?” Dean called up, taking a step towards the massive hand.   
  
In reaction to his movement, the hand drew away, almost seeming  _afraid._  “I could  _hurt you,_  Dean!” came a hushed, frantic voice from above. “Stop making jokes about this!”  
  
Dean took another step. And another. Not backing down from Sam’s enormous, shadowed form, he was firm this time. “Sam, you need to relax,” he insisted. “We’ll figure this ou--”  
  
“No we won’t!” Sam snapped, angrily brushing Dean back. “You  _can’t--_ ”  
  
Sam trailed off when Dean didn’t answer from where he’d fallen after Sam had pushed him back. “Dean?”  
  
Hesitantly coming forward a few feet, Sam wished he had more light. “Dean, you okay?”   
  
More panic started to rise up in him. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d pushed Dean away. Not realizing his newfound strength, to go with his gigantic size. “Dean,  _please…_ ”  
  
Something in Sam rose up, and snapped. Just as soon as he was reaching forward to try and nudge Dean up, the ground was rising up to slap Sam down.   
  
Groaning, Sam rolled over. By the end of this night, he was going to be covered in bruises. Like Dean. Which reminded him…  
  
“Dean?!” Sam clambered to his feet, searching for the tiny Impala with a collapsed Dean Winchester nearby. He found nothing, instead discovering tufts of grass that stretched over Sam’s head and thick grains of dirt.   
  
Once more, Sam’s heart fell to the bottom of his chest. A burning suspicion had him look up.  
  
This time, when before the night had been long and dark, there was a bright spotlight far in the distance. It could rival the sun if it was facing him, a burst of light heading straight out into the night.  
  
Sam began to hyperventilate, and the grass started to stretch  _higher_  over his head. Everything around him expanded, stretched,  _grew._  
  
Alone, in the dark, not knowing if Dean was going to be okay or if he was hurt from a careless motion, Sam truly felt alone as the ground closed in on him.  
  


* * *

  
Sore, Dean pushed himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his ribs. Damn if that didn’t  _smart._  
  
He had to only have been out for a few minutes. The car still idled behind him, the engine a soft thrum of power as she waited for the hunters to get back in.   
  
“Sammy, come on!” Dean called out, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “We can figure this out!”  
  
Nothing.  
  
Dean didn’t even know if Sam was still  _around._  For all he knew, the kid could have run off into the pitch black Midwestern night. Finding a giant in a night like this, without even stars overhead for light, was going to be a project.   
  
Especially if Sam didn’t want to be found.  
  
Groaning, Dean hauled himself to his feet, going around to the back of the Impala. Popping the trunk, he dug out a flashlight to cut through the night. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he had now.  
  
He also stopped to turn off the car and pocket the keys. The last thing he needed was some opportunistic car thief running off with his prized possession.  
  
“Sammy!” Dean called out, snapping the flashlight on and panning it across the ground.  
  
Scrub bush, and some grass. They hadn’t stopped in the nicest area. There was more dirt than greenery here. No sign of a giant.  
  
“Sam!”  
  


* * *

  
The sound of Dean’s voice might be reassuring to Sam if he didn’t know his older brother was going to be looking for a  _giant,_  of which Sam decidedly was  _not._  
  
 _What do I do what do I do…_  
  
Trying to keep his panic down, a state of mind that Sam had been in since discovering this newfound ability, he ran towards where he saw the flashlight bouncing in the night. Dean was searching for him, looking in  _all the wrong places._  
  
“Dean!” Sam called out, trying to project. His voice was light enough to be snatched away by a breeze. He waved his arms wildly.  
  
The panning light brushed past Sam, and he nearly despaired as it continued to bob over the landscape away from him.   
  
“DEAN!”  
  
The light snapped back, and this time focused on him, the brilliant light glowing like the sun and chasing away the shadows on all sides. “Sammy?” the gruff voice boomed over head. “Holy shit dude. I think Happy Meal toy is overstating it.”  
  
Sam stumbled to a stop, breath heaving in his chest. “W-what?”  
  
A boot landed close by as Dean closed in, nearly tossing Sam from his feet. The giant knelt down, giving Sam a better view of his surroundings as he placed the flashlight on the ground.  
  
“You’re like…” Dean judged his view of Sam. “Half the size I found you at earlier. What  _happened?_ ”  
  
Sam shook his head. “It just… happened. I dunno. Are you okay? Did I…” His voice caught in his throat. “Did I hurt…”  
  
“‘M fine, Sammy,” Dean said gruffly. “But we need to get you out of here. Before some opportunistic beetle decides you’ll make a good meal.”  
  
Sam’s face turned slightly green as he looked uneasily at his surroundings, realizing he hadn’t exactly been  _subtle_  in the last few minutes, trying to get Dean’s attention.  
  
He didn’t get more time to think it over, because a hand swooped down, scooping him up off the hard ground. Sam yelped as he tumbled, falling on his ass at the center of Dean’s hand.  
  
His entire field of vision was filled with a shit-eating grin as Dean looked him over. “I think I can find you some real estate in this Polly Pocket I saw…”  
  
“Not funny, Dean!” Sam shouted in annoyance.   
  
Dean sighed, and his expression grew more serious. “C’mon Sam, talk to me. What’s going on?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “I- I dunno,” he said worriedly. “You were talking in the car, and I just started getting claustrophobic and everything started feeling smaller, and then it  _was_  smaller, and then when we were outside I  _hurt_  you…”  
  
“Hold up, calm down!”  
  
The urgency in Dean’s voice made Sam look up, and he saw that the hand he was in was stretching further and further to the sides.  
  
He was  _still_  shrinking.  
  
“So, what?” Dean whispered. “You shrink whenever you think you hurt me? Or is it something else?”  
  
Sam bit his lips. “Maybe it’s when I get upset?” he ventured. “And when I get mad I grow?”  
  
There was no answer, and Sam looked up to meet Dean’s huge green eyes overhead to find no comprehension in them.  
  
He was too small to be heard.  
  
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Sam repeated his idea, and intense relief blossomed in him to see understanding bloom across Dean’s face.  
  
“Maybe you go back to normal when you calm down?” Dean offered.  
  
Sam nodded, not bothering to answer. His voice already hurt, and if he had to shout every word he might lose his voice completely. That was  _not_  something he wanted to deal with at this size.  
  
Concentrating, Sam slowed his breathing and focused. Just like meditation. He had to find his center and keep from growing more upset.  
  
To Sam’s surprise, this helped. The air shifted around him, and as he started to grow back, Dean lowered his hand to let him slide off right as he passed the six-inch mark. By the time Dean stepped back, Sam was three feet tall, and then he passed his older brother’s hairline and assumed his correct stature.  
  
Slumping in relief, Sam nearly fell right over and would have if Dean wasn’t there to catch him with a grunt of effort.  
  
“Let’s get you to the car,” Dean said, putting one boot in front of the other. “We can figure out the rest in the morning. After a good night’s sleep.”  
  
Together they stumbled back to the Impala, their refuge for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torch and samwinchesterseyes wanted a continuation of the sizeshifter Sam AU, so here we are!
> 
> Sizeshifter!Sam AU
> 
> Word count: 1907


End file.
